Splintertalk

Joaken and Fogclaw

The word “peril” echoed in his mind as his mount twisted violently beneath him and banked to the side. The wind caught his cloak, whipping it out behind him, violently snapping and tugging at his shoulders. He grabbed a hold of the giant Roc’s red feathers and felt his stomach lurch. The great wings beat hard, the white crest on its head quivering in the cold bluster. -From Hunt, an entry in the Tome of CHAOS

Creator: @splinterlands

Edition(s): 50